Massie Meets her Match, revisited
by NeedsmoarDelta
Summary: South Park Clique crossover.  It's a new school year at the now coed OCD and four new kids have arrived, turning Massie's world upside down. With twisted revenge plots, romance and a certain hand puppet, 8th grade is going to be anything but ordinary.
1. Intro

_A/N: A rewrite of my previous fic. I found a beta, finally, and I personally like this one better than the previous one. I wanted to emphasize a Cartman/Massie rivalry more. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or South Park. _

The Pretty Committee:

Massie Block: Confused and beyond pissed when she walks into a now co-ed OCD and finds that she is no longer on top; she has been replaced with four new boys. Determined to get back to her rightful place as alpha, Massie's relatively simple plan leads to twisted revenge plots, unlikely romance and a hand puppet known as Jennifer Lopez.

Alicia Rivera: With the Pretty Committee on the verge of disintegration, Alicia is carefully weighing her options: to stay loyal to Massie or to accept an enticing offer….from Cartman.

Claire Lyons: When Kenny arrives at OCD, Claire thinks that he might be the one to get her over Cam. The only problem is, she's going to have to fight for him.

Kristen Gregory: Finds herself comforting a heartbroken Stan. Being a student counselor definitely has its benefits…

Dylan Marvil: Crushing on the same guy as Claire. Knows that he'll like her better than a Ked wearer, even if she was the star of Dial L….right?

* * *

And, of course, our South Park boys:

Eric Cartman: Finds himself in an ideal situation: he's the new alpha and that means a school full of worshipping people, ripe for manipulation. Is ready to use and abuse this power, in yet another attempt to piss off Kyle and do some serious damage in the process.

Stan Marsh: Left his girlfriend Wendy behind in Colorado. With the distance, infrequent communication and strange behavior on her part, he suspects that something's not right in Stan-and Wendy- land. With some diligent snooping, he uncovers more than he bargained for.

Kyle Broflovski: Resentful at the prospect of spending his time at OCD. With Cartman here, things are bound to take a turn for the worse.

Kenny McCormick: South Park's most notorious whore has arrived in Westchester, and he already has girls fighting over him. Life is his for taking, now if only he could stop dying all the time….

* * *

A Quick guide to Cartman-isms:

Because of Cartman's selective Southern accent, he pronounces certain words differently.

Kenneh- Kenny

Kahl-Kyle

Authoritah- authority

Seriouslah- serious


	2. Lime Green Hat

_A/N__ For the sake of clarification, I am going to explain a little bit about Cartman. His "mother" Liane, is actually hermaphrodite, technically, (DNA wise) she is considered to be Cartman's father. This may not make much sense now, but you'll see why I mentioned this here later in the chapter. Kisses!__ Don't forget to review!_

Monday, September 5th

8:15 am

Massie Block headed into the familiar halls of OCD, the vile smell of black coffee, tuna fish and mold assaulting her nostrils. After five school free months spent at riding camp, Massie dreaded, yet at the same time felt strangely excited about the new school year. She hadn't seen the girls at all this summer and was anxious to catch up on all the gossip she'd missed.

The arches of her feet tingled and her stomach dropped, the way it always did right before she made an entrance. But this time, when she strode confidently towards her locker, all eyes were not on her. There was no familiar circle of girls gathered around her, desperately craving her approval the same way they had last year. No, instead the entire female population gathered around four boys; one, with a lime green hat, looked uncomfortable about all the attention, the two boys next to him simply looked bored, and the fat boy in the center seemed elated.

_What the fuck?_ Massie stood motionless in front of the doors, in total shock. Why was everyone worshipping these kids? Sure, three of them were cute, but the most attention seemed to be directed at the fat boy; Massie could not simply wrap her mind around it. What was even worse was that she was all alone. Her supposed "best friends" had gotten their own rides to school, making it the first time since 3rd grade that Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan hadn't carpooled with her. Instead it had been a long and lonely ride; even Claire hadn't ridden with Massie, she made some excuse about getting more exercise, and had walked that morning.

She knew that she could stand there; mute, looking like a total LBR, or she could do something about it. She made a split second decision and determinedly strode towards the four boys; her Christian Louboutin knee high boots clacking against the worn linoleum. Shoving past the masses of LBRs, she approached the fat kid.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Massie asked, her amber eyes boring into his chocolate brown ones.

Surprisingly, this kid met her gaze with unwavering confidence.

A blonde boy in an orange parka answered Massie's question, "Nothin'."

Fat kid growled at Orange Parka, "Shut up, Kenneh!"

He looked back at Massie, his eyes critically scanning every inch of her, from her shiny chestnut hair to her pointy toed boots.

He sneered, "I think we should be asking you that question. Shouldn't you be making pies or getting pregnant or something?"

Massie's cheeks flushed crimson; she balled up her fists, desperately trying to control her urge to slap this boy right across one of his piggy, bulging, cheeks. Instead of responding to him the way she would have liked to, she simply walked as fast as she could to the nearest bathroom.

She heard the sound of footsteps behind her and sped up; she really didn't want to be bothered right now, especially when she had so much thinking to do. Problem was, the footsteps behind her sped up too, following her every step. Beyond frustrated, Massie turned sharply to face the stalker. It was one of the four boys, the one with the lime green hat.

"Don't let Cartman get to you. He's just an asshole."

Massie crinkled her perfect brows in confusion, "Who?"

"The fat ass. Just ignore him; he's pretty much a blob spouting racial and sexist slurs."

Massie laughed, "So, who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Kyle. Stan, Kenny and Cartman and I just moved here from South Park."

"Oh."

Massie was quiet for a moment, and scanned him with a critical eye. He was pretty cute, definitely HART worthy, if he'd lose the hat. After all, everyone knows that hats are so last season. But besides the childish hat, the rest of him seemed almost perfect, from deep jade green eyes that sparkled with kindness and good humor; to pale skin, that didn't look good on most people, but suited him. It wasn't deathly pale or anything; he seemed to have somewhat of a healthy glow around him.

The silence between the two of them had blown past awkward in a cute way and was now simply awkward in a weird, socially inept way. Desperately Massie combed her brain for something, anything, to say to get rid of the strange tension between the two of them. But nothing came to mind.

Finally, Massie blurted out, "I like your hat."

Immediately she slapped one manicured hand over her mouth in an effort to prevent herself from saying something even stupider. It was technically a lie too, because in actuality, she thought his hat was somewhat strange, and not in a good way.

Lie or not, it did seem to break the barrier between the two of them.

Kyle seemed almost shy when he muttered,"Thanks" and smiled at her.

Even though he didn't have that perfect, Crest toothpaste smile like Chris Abeley, his slightly crooked smile was just as endearing. The bell rang and Massie jumped, startled.

She started to walk towards homeroom when she heard Kyle call, "Hey!"

"What?" she asked impatiently.

"I forgot to ask you yours."

"What?!"

"Your name, "he pointed out, as if it were obvious.

Oh, I'm Massie."

She flashed a white, movie star grin, then walked straight ahead, until the sounds of her pointy toed boots could no longer be heard.

* * *

Monday, September 5th

10:35 am

The Starbucks Kiosk

Massie hadn't seen any of her friends; she was stuck in classes with a bunch of LBR's and couple of the new kids, Kyle and Stan, maybe? She only vaguely remembered Stan and that other boy, Kenny (was his name Kenny?)

So it was almost like old times when she approached the Starbucks kiosk and found Claire, Alicia, Dylan and Kristen waiting for her. "Leesh!" Massie cried, opening up her arms for a hug. But Alicia only half heartedly returned the gesture and the rest of the girls hung back, calmly sipping their Chai lattes like they had just seen Massie five minutes ago, not five months ago.

"So, did you hear any good gossip over the summer? I'm so behind," Massie giggled.

Nobody said anything and just as the moment was about to turn into something ugly, the bell rang. Dylan and Kristen power walked and Alicia was moving at a normal pace. Something was definitely wrong here. Massie cornered Claire and looked straight into her aqua colored eyes.

"Kuh-laire, what the hell is going on here? What is with those new kids?"

Claire bit her nails nervously, her eyes unable to meet Massie's amber ones.

"Um…"

" What?" Massie asked, impatiently.

"Well, these new kids came and that fat one, Cartman is supposedly the son of Principal Burns."

Massie couldn't help it; she busted up. The idea that someone would actually bang Principal Burns was ridiculously disturbing. She then turned to face Claire again; her moment of fun was over.

"And that's your excuse for avoiding me and hanging out with those dumbasses?"

"Well, no," Claire's already pale face had turned even paler, if that was possible.

She whispered, "He told us that if we didn't hang out with him, he would make us eat our parents."

"You actually believe that bullshit?" Massie asked, incredulous.

Claire nodded, her eyes wide with fear. "Yeah, I heard he did it to this kid Scott Tenorman, back in Colorado. He was so messed up afterwards, that he was put into a mental institution."

Massie thought for a minute, then spoke, "Mandatory meeting at the iPad. Get Kristen, Dylan and Leesh to come too. I don't care how you do it, but I better see them there at 4 pm."

Claire scurried away and Massie headed towards American History, determined to do whatever she could to get her alpha status back.

_A/N: another episode reference, this one Sco__t__t Tenorman must die. Yes, Cartman did kill Scott Tenorman's parents and grind them up into chili, which he then fed to Scott. __Pretty sadistic, huh?_


	3. Schemes and Dreams

_A/N: __This took forever to get exactly right. Ple__ase let me know what you think, con crit is greatly appreciated! _

_Episodes referenced are The Jeffersons, Scott Tenorman Must Die__, Raisins and the newest episode, Le Petit Tourette._

* * *

Monday, September 5th 

Claire's bedroom

3:25 pm

"Can you stop pacing? It's making me dizzy."

Claire tucked her white blonde bangs behind her ears and stared up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

Massie ignored this and continued to pace, "How the hell did this happen? What does this Cartman kid have that I don't?"

Claire stared at her swollen, bloody cuticles as if they held the answer, "Authoritah."

Massie frowned; she wanted to shout out, "What the hell does that mean? Why can't everyone just go back to kissing my ass?" But that would mean losing control and Massie had vowed that she would never lose her cool, not after the humiliating incident in the OCD bomb shelter.

Claire, noticing the puzzled expression Massie's face continued, "He inherited a bunch of money from some old guy; I think his name was Mr. Jefferson or something. Anyways, he's the richest kid in Westchester and everyone does what he says because of the whole Scott Tenorman thing."

Massie's knees buckled and collapsed onto the pristine bed, like a melodramatic actress on a cheesy soap opera. Her brain buzzed with a million thoughts; last year she had being on the top of the heap, life had been hers for the taking. Now she was a has-been. But as usual; determination reared its stubborn head, bringing Massie back to her senses.

She had been in worse situations before; she had even managed to get back in OCD after being expelled. Of course, this was mainly Kristin's doing, but Massie glossed over that particular fact. Surely if she could manipulate Principal Burns, she would be able to handle whatever that Cartman kid threw at her.

Then it hit her. There seemed to be some form of tension between Cartman and Kyle. Maybe if she started hanging out with Kyle, it would piss him off even more. Kyle was the key to finding out everything about Cartman, Massie was sure that Cartman had some secret that she could humiliate him with. Massie checked her diamond encrusted Chanel watch; she had approximately fifteen minutes before the Pretty Committee would be here, just enough time to put her plan into motion.

"Kuh-laire, what's Kyle's AIM?"

"Uh," Claire ran her fingers through her stick straight hair, trying to remember.

Impatient, Massie reached into the lemon yellow decorative locker tucked into the corner. Immediately, she was attacked by mounds of old papers, half eaten Red Vines and CDs.

"Ew," Massie whipped a dirty sock at Claire's head and grabbed the OCD school directory, which balanced on a crumpled packet of half eaten Doritos.

"What's Kyle's last name?"

"Broflofki or Broflovski, I could never pronounce it."

Massie flipped through the glossy pages, praying to Gawd that the booklet had been updated since OCD had gone co-ed. Sure enough, under the Bs, Kyle Broflovski's cell phone number was listed.

Massie slipped her Razr out of the pocket of her dark wash True Religions and added the number to her contacts list, reminding herself that it was all about getting back at Cartman and had nothing to do with how ah-dorable he looked, even with that stupid green ushanka of his. Massie glanced down at her watch again; she had less than five minutes before the rest of the Pretty Committee was due to arrive.

* * *

Monday, September 5th 

3:55 pm

The Limo

Alicia Rivera leaned back against the leather headrest of her family's limo, trying to fight the anxiety that seemed to be creeping up towards her chest. She didn't know why she was so nervous about meeting her best friend. No, that was a lie.

She knew why she was anxious; she just didn't want to admit it to herself. It was like a hyperactive hamster on speed running around on his wheel all night long. The vein in her temple began to throb as she recalled the sleepless nights she'd been having for the past two weeks, all because of that tantalizing offer Cartman had proposed.

"Just think about it," he had said casually. She had thought about it all right; it had been gnawing at her ever since that day.

Now she had to face Massie and finally figure out what she wanted. The crunch of tires on gravel indicated that she was only seconds from facing Massie and her infamous wrath. Lack of loyalty was number one on Massie's list of unforgiveable acts and the dread she felt weighing at the bottom of her stomach reminded Alicia of what happened the last time she had been called to the Block Estate mysteriously.

It was less than ten feet to Massie's room from the Block's lavish foyer and Alicia dragged her black patent leather Prada ballet flats against the delicate wood floor, determined to take as long as possible. As much as she tried to slow it down, it was inevitable that she would be staring at the high gloss finish on Massie's bedroom door. Alicia took a deep breath and reapplied her MAC Lipglass. She pushed open the door, tentative. Alicia knew that the next few minutes would determine her fate at OCD for the rest of the year.

* * *

Monday, September 5th 

4:10 pm

Massie's Bedroom, aka the iPad

Massie's all white room still had the same splashes of purple; a fresh bunch of white tulips rested in a deep violet vase next to the iMac. But today it seemed different; there was a sense of cold starkness in the overly tidy room, reminding Alicia of a hospital.

Massie herself stood in front of the bay window that overlooked the driveway, the shadows created by the late afternoon sunshine making her appear even more intimidating than usual. She turned around and smiled a cold, empty smile that made the hair on the back of Alicia's neck stand up. _She knows,_ thought Alicia, panic threatening to overwhelm her.

The delicate tip tap of heels began to grow in volume and the door was shoved open by an impatient Dylan. The sound of rubber squeaking meant that Kristin was right behind. Sure enough, a sweaty, red faced Kristin collapsed on Massie's now rumpled Calvin Klein bed spread.

"Where's Claire?" asked Dylan curious.

"I'm right here," Claire's high pitched voice came from behind Massie's life sized mannequin.

"What's this all about Massie?" Alicia asked, hoping that the irritation in her tone would cover up the fear that she was sure was ahb-vious.

"I have brought you all here today to discuss a very serious matter," Massie's face was grim and she stood like a general, towering over all of them in a pair of black Dior boots.

With her hands clasped behind her back, Massie began pacing again, looking each girl sternly in the eye.

"That disgusting specimen of a human being known as Eric Cartman has decided to screw with the Pretty Committee."

Claire raised her eyebrows, impressed. Massie sure seemed to have an extensive vocabulary for someone who claimed that her hobby was shopping.

"The key to getting the scoop on Cartman is to seduce his friends, of course. Claire, you take Kenny. Kristin, try to pry information out of Stan. Alicia, we are going to have to use the DJ booth."

"What about me?" Dylan whined.

"Fine," Massie sighed in exasperation, "Work with Claire. Whatever."

"What about Kyle?" Claire asked.

Massie could feel a blush working its way up her face. "Uh, I have it taken care of."

Alicia let out a small bark of laughter. When she saw the fire in Massie's amber eyes, she quickly changed her laugh to a coughing fit. She heard Dylan and Kristin whispering amongst themselves and wondered if she could leave now. Massie was in the corner, texting with an intensity that Alicia had never seen before.

"Uh, Mass?"

"What?" snapped Massie, annoyed with the interruption.

"Never mind," said Alicia quietly, pretending to look at the pictures on red corkboard hanging above the modern glass desk. Massie breathed a sigh of relief and Alicia noticed that the tension in her shoulders had disappeared. With the wave of a well manicured hand, she dismissed them and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Monday, September 5th 

Cartman's Bedroom

4:30 pm

Stan Marsh checked his cell phone for what felt like the 100th time. The screen remained unchanging, with the words "No new messages!' in the lower left corner. If he could, he would rip that cheerful exclamation point off the pixilated yellow envelope and hurl his phone against the wall with as much force as possible. It was something he would do too, if he hadn't been lying upside down. A lone tear made its way out of the corner of his red rimmed eye and disappeared into his thick eyelashes that were the envy of many a girl back in South Park. If Wendy were here, she'd kiss him on the cheek and sit by his side, her hand clasped protectively around his, the way a mom would. Wendy always knew how to comfort him when he was down.

"Dude, are you still hung up on that hippie skank?"

"She's not a hippie skank," Stan said, his usual upbeat voice sounding monotone and dreary.

"Geez, Stan, why not add a little black eyeliner and emo angst, I'm sure the Goths here will accept you for who you are," Cartman smirked. Stan didn't respond; instead he stared up at the ceiling in a dazed, stoned sort of way.

"Shut the fuck up, lard butt." Kyle didn't even bother turning around to address Cartman; he furrowed his brow in concentration, all of his energy focused on the video game he was playing with Kenny.

"Lard butt? At least I'm not a filthy Jew."

Kyle didn't rise to the bait; instead he reached for his scratched Nokia, which lay on Cartman's bed, beeping.

"Huh," he said quietly, scanning through his received messages.

"What?" Kenny's muffled voice could barely be heard over the deafening, overly chirpy tune that marked the end of the game.

"I got the weirdest text message from that Massie chick."

Kenny dropped the controller on the scratchy carpet and snatched the phone from Kyle's hands, reading eagerly.

"I didn't know you could read," Cartman quipped.

"Fuck you," Kenny responded, flipping him off, as usual.

"I didn't think you swung that way, Kenny."

"You do, I'm sure your cousin could tell us all about it."

Cartman felt his cheeks grow hot and it seemed as though the blood in his veins would boil over. His heart pumped a frenzied beat; he clenched his fingers into tight balls at his sides and his double chin wobbled grotesquely, "SHUT THE HELL UP, KENNEH! YOU POOR PIECE OF CRAP!"

The room was silent, the air filled with words unsaid; Cartman could feel the penetrating gazes of Stan, Kyle and Kenny pierce through his red coat and through to the small black object that was his heart.

"Wow, that's hot," Kenny's words try and fail to fill the awkward void between the four boys, "Damn, dude, why did you say anything? That Massie was pretty cute." Kyle suspected that Kenny would say that his grandmother was foxy in order to break the stifling atmosphere.

"When you say that, it reeks of something perverted." In one smooth motion, Kyle grabbed his cell phone back from Kenny and shoved him onto the bed, where he crashed landed onto a bunch of goose down pillows.

Scrolling through the message, he felt his palms grow slick with sweat and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

**Massie: Heard that u r a great hacker. I've got a project 4 u. Meet me at Slice of Heaven pizza shop 7pm. Come alone. Laytah ;)**

**Kyle: ok**

He blamed his hormones for lack of an intelligent response.


	4. Keep Fishin'

_The movie flickered on the large screen--some generic romantic comedy that the couple wasn't paying any attention to. He sneaked a quick glance at the girl who met his gaze equally. He smiled sheepishly and looked down at his sneakers in embarrassment. The girl's glance returned to the movie and he looked up once more. __Time to make his move._

_Ever so slowly, he stretched his arm over her shoulders, shifting his weight slightly on the plush velvet chair. The girl moved in closer and Stan scooted to the right until their hips were touching—damn. The jumbo sized bucket of popcorn fell to the floor with a clatter that seemed to echo like a gunshot, at least to his ears. He lowered his head in disappointment. He'd never get this romance thing right. The girl giggled and placed her hand over his. That gave him all the courage he needed. He leaned in and gave her a small peck on the lips………_

"Stan is mine, you whore!"

Wendy sat up in bed, rubbing her cerulean blue eyes, crusted with sleep. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the images that plagued her. Out of habit, she reached for the cell phone on her nightstand, flipping it open and flooding the surrounding area with a bluish- white light.

No new messages.

Sighing, Wendy slumped back on the pillows, placing the phone on the nightstand and closing her eyes. She hadn't heard from Stan in over a week. Maybe this was his way of breaking up with her and moving on? Wendy's eyes snapped back open and she reached for her phone, dialing Stan's number.

One, two, three rings.

A groggy voiced picked up, "Hello?"

"Stan?"

"Yeah. Who is this?"

"Um, Wendy. You know, your girlfriend?"

"It's like three in the morning or something."

"I know. I just…..I just needed to hear your voice." Wendy pulled a thread from the bottom of her tank top and wrapped it around her finger., hearing her own voice tumble from her lips, yet at the same time, it wasn't. She hated the effect he had on her. Hated, hated, hated it.

"I'll call you tomorrow." The line went dead. And the three unspoken words left her hating him even more. At least, she wished she could. She wished she could move on just as easily as he.

But she found couldn't. And back was her feelings of confusion, and the little flutters in her stomach she had so loved only a few months ago. Now, it felt like a squirrel was scratching its was out of her stomach.

"Love you too," she said softly, falling into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Monday, September 5th

The Block Estate

6:59 pm

Massie glanced at herself in the mirror, cocking her head slightly to the right the way she always did if she didn't have anyone to rate her. She knew she had to look her best in order to get Kyle's help; most guys would rather listen to Jessica Stam than Ugly Betty.

"I don't know, Bean," she pressed her lips together, addressing the black pug sitting next to her plush mannequin replica and occasionally growling at said mannequin, "Do you think this top is too ah-dorable, or just ah-dorable enough?"

Massie spun, showing off her brand new BCBG satin corset style top in a bright magenta. Paired with a brand new Marc by Marc Jacobs blazer and Paige dark wash jeans; Massie was certain she would get Kyle's attention.

And if not… Well, rest assured there wouldn't _be_ an 'if not'. When Massie Block set out to get something done, it got done, simple as that. Massie gave her hair and final flip, slicked on a coat of Vanilla Mocha flavored Glossip Girl and walked downstairs her usual air of dignity, where Isaac was waiting.

* * *

Monday, September 5th

Slice of Heaven Pizza Shop

7:10 pm

Massie tiptoed around the back of the pizza oven shaped building, in the hope that there might be a window, a door, anything that she could use to spy on Kyle. No such luck. With a sigh, she pulled out her Chanel compact and reapplied the back-up Glossip Girl she had brought. The sugary sweet scent of Cinnabon calmed her nerves instantly, until she pushed open the white doors and saw Kyle leaning against the ceramic hostess stand, thumbs flying across the small click pad of his flip phone; oblivious to the dirty looks the waitress was giving him.

Massie wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. Go right up to him and start talking? Clear her throat? Reapply lip gloss? Would kissing him on the cheek be too slutty?

The waitress decided to make Massie's decision for her.

"How many in your party?" she asked, chewing gum in a bored manner. Massie noticed that her name tag read 'Angel'. Huh. How… fitting. Kyle looked up at the sound of the waitress' voice and smiled.

"Hey Massie."

"H-Hey," she stuttered, wishing that she could duct tape her mouth closed. That stutter had to go, ASAP; it made her sound like an LBR.

"So, uh, what was so urgent?" Now it was Kyle's turn to look nervous. He cleared his throat and discreetly tugged at the hem of his shirt, awaiting Massie's answer.

"Um…..I……Cartman….." Kyle's face darkened at the mention of Cartman.

"What's the fat fuck doing now?"

"This way please," Angel accidentally-on-purpose pushed Massie towards the nearest chair, her eyes intent on the clock. Kyle took the hint and sat opposite Massie, flipping his cell phone open and shut.

Massie leaned in; Kyle blushed—he could practically count her long eyelashes, and tried hard not to glance down just a fraction of an inch, as he knew he would be treated by a sight of you-know-what. Massie pretended not notice, she had to be all business even if she wanted to grab him by the coat collar and kiss him all over his ah-dorable face.

"I heard you can hack into any computer, even the US government's stuff." She batted her eyelashes, knowing that her brand new eyelash extensions would make her amber eyes look even more gorgeous than usual.

"Why? What does this have to with Cartman?" The Jewish boy's green eyes blazed with anger.

"N-Nothing. It doesn't have to do with Cartman at all." Massie crossed her fingers under the table, praying that her lie had worked.

"Oh, okay." He visibly relaxed, and let out a long breath he had subconsciously held.

"So, can you hack into the school's server and send a mass email?"

"Well, it depends on—" Loud obnoxious giggling drowned out Kyle's answer. He found it extremely irritating, as he was just getting comfortable, and he knew any more distractions would wipe his response from his mind.

Massie glared at the offender; it was Thin-Pin, one of the DSL daters, sitting with some guy, no doubt her latest flavor of the week.

There was something very familiar about him. Too familiar. The lazy slouch, the way his blonde hair hung in his face, reminding Massie of a Labrador. Massie's suspicions were confirmed when Thin- Pin leaned over the table and brushed floppy strands of hair out of his face.

"You look like a dog, Derek."

"That's what I aim for," he winked.

------

"Massie? You okay?" Kyle waved a hand in front of Massie's eyes. "You're staring."

"Quick, pretend to be my boyfriend! Now!"

"What the—?"

"Just do it," Massie hissed. She grabbed his hand and spoke in a loud, syrupy sweet voice, "Oh, Kyle, you're so funny!" She laughed.

Kyle froze up; seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness as he tried to think of something, anything to say.

_Come on, talk. She's counting on you. Say something nice about her eyes. __Or her hair.__ It's not that hard. Go on. Say it. Say it!!!!_

"Uh, did you know that dogs help with anxiety?"

_Wait….dogs…anxiety….what the hell are you thinking? Say something else! __Maybe something semi-intelligent this time?__Possibly?_

"Your hair smells good."

If it was considered socially acceptable to bang his head against the table, he would. What the hell was wrong with him?

Massie dug her fingernails into Kyle's palm.

"Ouch! Hell's that for?"

"Look," she whispered, "they're paying attention." Massie leaned in and grabbed him by the collar of his orange jacket, smashing her lips against his until he felt like he couldn't breathe. Finally, Massie pulled away. Kyle began gulping for air as though his life depended on him. And at that exact moment, it did. Sort of.

_Sweet freedom…….._

His lips were covered in heavy, sticky gloss; he licked them in an attempt to get it off. Hmmm….cinnamon buns. He licked his lips again. Yep, definitely cinnamon buns.

"Sorry about that. Just an old ex of mine. Anyway, about the hacking into the server—" Massie stopped short, her eyebrows raised, as Kyle stood up, his eyes darkening once again, as though she had mentioned Cartman. How could he have been so stupid?

_She's not interested in me; all she wants is her stupid mass email. Probably a new two thousand dollar handbag came out or something equally __idiotic__ came out; she just wants to flaunt it in front of everyone. _

"Figure out how to hack into the goddamn server yourself."

For the second time in Massie Block's life, a boy walked away from her, and didn't look back.

-------

"Do you have it?"

"Yeah." He handed her a small package wrapped in brown paper. "I've been waiting for the day I could put these to good use."

"A reward for your troubles." Her lips lingered on his pale cheek. Without another word, she hopped on her bike and pedaled off, the autumn night and hazy mist swallowing her form.

* * *

_A/N: A gigantic thanks and __superflyingtacklepounce__ to Dernier Cri, who was kind enough to beta this chapter for me. She fucking kicks ass. Yeah. _


End file.
